The origin of 40k

[Legoklods]

So it has come to my attention that space marines, the most iconic of all things 40k-ish, where first consived from a poem called "The Dark Angel" written by the now long dead English poet Lionel Johnson.
Seems no coincidence, that the Dark Angels where Legion no. 1.

Anyway, my question is this: Would any of you happen to know the content of this poem, and if so, please post it here for all to enjoy:)

[Gotthammer]

DARK Angel, with thine aching lust
To rid the world of penitence:
Malicious Angel, who still dost
My soul such subtile violence!

Because of thee, no thought, no thing,
Abides for me undesecrate:
Dark Angel, ever on the wing,
Who never reachest me too late!

When music sounds, then changest thou
Its silvery to a sultry fire:
Nor will thine envious heart allow
Delight untortured by desire.

Through thee, the gracious Muses turn,
To Furies, O mine Enemy!
And all the things of beauty burn
With flames of evil ecstasy.

Because of thee, the land of dreams
Becomes a gathering place of fears:
Until tormented slumber seems
One vehemence of useless tears.

When sunlight glows upon the flowers,
Or ripples down the dancing sea:
Thou, with thy troop of passionate powers,
Beleaguerest, bewilderest, me.

Within the breath of autumn woods,
Within the winter silences:
Thy venomous spirit stirs and broods,
O Master of impieties!

The ardour of red flame is thine,
And thine the steely soul of ice:
Thou poisonest the fair design
Of nature, with unfair device.

Apples of ashes, golden bright;
Waters of bitterness, how sweet!
O banquet of a foul delight,
Prepared by thee, dark Paraclete!

Thou art the whisper in the gloom,
The hinting tone, the haunting laugh:
Thou art the adorner of my tomb,
The minstrel of mine epitaph.

I fight thee, in the Holy Name!
Yet, what thou dost, is what God saith:
Tempter! should I escape thy flame,
Thou wilt have helped my soul from Death:

The second Death, that never dies,
That cannot die, when time is dead:
Live Death, wherein the lost soul cries,
Eternally uncomforted.

Dark Angel, with thine aching lust!
Of two defeats, of two despairs:
Less dread, a change to drifting dust,
Than thine eternity of cares.

Do what thou wilt, thou shalt not so,
Dark Angel! triumph over me:
Lonely, unto the Lone I go;
Divine, to the Divinity.

--

'tis about struggling with the conflict of his homosexuality and strict religous faith.

[Grailkeeper]

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lionel_Johnson

Its a gay love poem, which has lead to some s******ing about dark angels

[Atrocity]

This makes their lovely nickname (***s in rags) make so much more sense

[Mr.Pickelz]

an interesting poem, quite sad indeed. This does explain the dark (almost emo tone) of the dark angels as a whole, i wonder then if any of the other legions are based on poems..

[Drew da Destroya]

I believe that the World Eaters were originally based on the following epic poem:

"KILL! MAIM! BURN! KILL! MAIM! BURN!". For those of you who don't know the conventions of epic poetry, a standard epic poem consists of 12 books (for example, Milton's "Paradise Lost").

It was originally penned by the renowned poet Kharne le Betrayel. I think he was French.

[DarkLink]

KILL! MAIM! BURN! KILL! MAIM! BURN!". For those of you who don't know the conventions of epic poetry, a standard epic poem consists of 12 books (for example, Milton's "Paradise Lost").

It was originally penned by the renowned poet Kharne le Betrayel. I think he was French.

Well, they do say brevity is the soul of wit.

For example, a short story attributed to Hemingway: "For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn."

[Lockark]

Now I want to write a Yaio FanFic about the Dark Angles.


Brother Earnest ran his gauntlet hand across Brother John's Bare chest. Rippling with muscle Brother John pulled Earnest close to his heart. With John Holding the smaller Earnest in a tight embrace, they stared deeply into one another's eyes.

:D

[MaltonNecromancer]

When I first read that poem, I read it with 40K in mind - and the connection went from war and homosexuality to "Gods and Monsters". if you've not seen it, I recommend it unreservedly. It's Ian McKellan's finest performance (outside of his Richard III), and while I couldn't find te scene on YouTube, I include the story of Barnett on the wire below. It's exactly how the Dark Angel poem is in my head.

(To fully imagine this if you've not watched the film, you must imagine it being read in Ian McKellan's Magneto voice.)

"Oh, there may not be atheists in the foxholes, but there are occasionally lovers. I was an officer. This was World War I; The Great War. You had a Good War, while we had... a war without end. There were trenches when I arrived, and trenches when I left, two years later. Just like in the movies. Only the movies never get the stench of them. The world reduced to mud and sandbags and a narrow strip of rainy sky.

But we were discussing something else. Oh yes. Love in the trenches.

Barnett. Was that his name? Leonard Barnett. He came to the front straight from Harrow. And he looked up to me. Unlike the others, he didn't care that I was a workingman impersonating his betters. How strange, to be admired so blindly. I suppose he loved me. But chastely, like a schoolboy.

I remember one morning in particular. A morning when the sun came out. Odd, how even there one could have days when the weather was enough to make one happy. He and I were standing on the fire step and I showed him the sights of no-man's land, through the periscope. It was beautiful. The barbed wire was reddish gold, the water in the shell holes green with algae, the sky a clear quattrocento blue. And I stood shoulder to shoulder with a tall apple-cheeked boy who loved and trusted me.

Barnett. Barnett on the wire. He caught his one night coming back from the reconnoiter. I wouldn't take him out, but McGill did. Just to give the lad a taste. They were nearly home when a Maxim gun opened fire. Barnett's body fell in wire as thick as briers. It was hanging there the next morning, a hundred yards from the line, too far out for anyone to fetch it. We saw him at morning stand-to and evening stand-to. (Voice cracking, he laughs because if he doesn't, he'll cry) "Good morning, Barnett," we'd say each day. "How's ole Barnett looking this morning?" "Seems a little peaky. Looks a little plumper." His wounds faced the other way and his hat shielded his eyes, so one could imagine he was napping on bedsprings. He hung there until we were relieved. We introduced him to the new unit before we marched out, speaking highly of his companionship.

(with tears in his eyes and utter self loathing) Oh, but we were a witty lot. Laughing at our dead. Telling ourselves it was our death too. But with each man who died, I thought, "Better you than me, poor sod." A whole generation was wiped out by that war. Millions and millions of young men. Oh death where is thy sting-a-ling? Grave where thy victory?"

[Legoklods]

DARK Angel, with thine aching lust
To rid the world of penitence...
Divine, to the Divinity.

--

'tis about struggling with the conflict of his homosexuality and strict religous faith.

Thanks a lot mate:D
And yeah I knew what it was about, but wanted to read it with my own eyes...